James Potter vs Voldemort
by Missgen
Summary: Lord Voldemort needed a body, and he needed one fast. Not willing to hop into a mere baby, or take the life of a mud-blood, he now resides within the soul of a certain James Potter. And while James is forced to live the life of a Dark Lord, a secret spy, he must also save his son from his worst possible enemy: himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Lord Voldemort needed a body, and he needed one fast. Not willing to hop into a mere baby, or take the life of a mud-blood, he now resides within the soul of a certain James Potter. And while James is forced to live the life of a Dark Lord, a secret spy, he must also save his son from his worst possible enemy: himself.**

* * *

**James Potter VS Voldemort **

A cool wind marched down the narrow lanes and streets, while leaves rattled like toys on broken trees, and a man in a dark cloak made his way forward. Up ahead he could witness the little cottage at last, sitting peacefully towards the end of the lane–his servant had done well, it seemed; his spy had finally managed to blow apart the Potter's defences. Yes, secrets were meant to be broken... they should have known as such. Secrets were meant to be kept safe if the one telling truly valued their life. The Potter's should have known not to trust a friend...or anyone at all for that matter. He, Lord Voldemort, had never trusted anyone in his life and that alone was the reason he was still alive today. And perhaps...even the reason that, after tonight, no more threats would stand in his way. Peter would be rewarded, of course, and however cowardly the rat actually was, he had done well this time around. No one would escape, not now that he was overcoming his damnable fate.

His feet climbed up the front steps slowly, and before reaching out to ring the door-bell like he was so tempted to do, instead he lifted his wand and blasted open the door in shocking green. He would kill the brat who dared call himself his downfall. Voldemort would not let the child become a powerful rival, or even give hope to the resistance that there was someone to cheer for. No, he would kill the boy here, now as an infant before it was too late. He had won the battle the moment he heard of the prophecy.

Voldemort heard a scream and someone running up the stairs, but he paid no attention. His eyes roamed over the pleasant looking house, taking in the interrupted scene of daily living before finally resting on a pair of defiant eyes: James Potter. The young man was pointing his wand at him while guarding the staircase, something which, quite frankly, not a lot of people actually did. He admired the act of courage, the bravery this Gryffindor showed in a time of fear. For certainly it took a lot of guts to stand here and face him, request a battle with the Dark Lord alone and so unprepared. Or rather, to stand here and face death– for James Potter was certainly no match for him to even be considered a battle, and the one before him knew it too; his pale face showed the dread his eyes lacked to tell. But besides...Voldemort had only one goal on his mind, and he couldn't afford to play no matter how appealing the thought was.

"Leave, James Potter." Voldemort raised his wand and flicked lazily, "Or I shall send you to a finishing death. Even if I do... hate to kill precious purebloods."

"No, Voldemort." James spoke quietly, his lips trembling with all the strength he could muster. He could not even believe this was happening–_he had just been laughing over coffee not even five minutes ago!_ But no matter how scared and sick he actually felt inside, he planted his feet and aimed, for all he was worth... gripping his wand tighter against a foe much more powerful than he.

"I won't let you go any further. Stay away from Harry." James was shocked by the certainty of his words even he did not know he had.

Voldemort raged slightly that he had spoken his name but kept quiet as he stared into the young man's eyes. He could witness his body shaking slightly but remarkably, the young wizard was holding firm against him. It was like finally saying his name, or standing here in the final moments of his life had given him a strength, a courage that blazed inside him and nothing, not even Voldemort, could defeat it now. It reminded him of the old fool, and the thought made Voldemort want to break him.

"I see potential in you, James Potter..." Voldemort stood amused and contemplated the man before him, "But I will not tolerate defiance. Now, step down and accept your fate, and maybe I shall be merciful."

"You? Mercy?" James shot back quickly, for finally he could laugh at something in this hopelessness situation, "You bastards didn't show any to-!"

"_Crucio..."_

A thousand screams pierced the room, and James's body instantly fell to his knees as he rolled around. Nothing but throat wrenching screams of mindless pain, horrific screeches that sounded so shrill into the night that made all else quiet. The knowledge that he had lost...but after what seemed like an eternity, Voldemort lifted the curse and James collapsed before him, panting and almost throwing up in his hurried attempts to stand.

'Do you concede now? Will you give in?'

'S-shut-up.'

And for yet another whole minute, or two, or what could have been an hour to him, nothing but terrible cries could be heard in the little Potter house. And the neighbours outside, all their friends and family who fought so hard with them, no one knew a thing of the torture which was occurring in the innocent cottage expect a certain Lily Potter, who was crying into her hands upstairs at the sounds of her husband coming from below.

"Will another dose of pain finally bring about a change in that remarkably stubborn pride of yours? Let's face it, James Potter, you cannot hope to win..." Voldemort knelt down and lifted him by the neck,

"You cannot even hope to dream. Your family will die... you will die...but the Dark Lord is always forgiving. I shall surely grant you a painless-!"

"I'd rather..."

James shot a quick spell and out of the man's grip, then backed to his previous position by the stairs. Gripping the post, despite his violently shaking hands at being under the curse for too long, he stood there once more. He breathed heavily while bringing his wand up a final time. And in the weary back of his mind... James knew that this was his last few breaths. His entire life flashed before his eyes, first an arrogant teenager in first year...he had been so conceded back then. Then he met Lily, and then–he was so scared to die, those red eyes that told him he would. He wanted to live, he felt so tired and drained but he wanted to live. His vision was going blurry, and Voldemort was sighing as he stepped closer. He wanted to love Lily and live happily in peace...Harry...have fun with Sirius one more time. Was this really the end for him? The great James Potter was finally at his games end?

"Stay away from Harry. I won't let-" James held his wand to curse but was stopped mid-sentence. Voldemort had hit him with a silencing charm and James was thrown into confusion as no sound was drawing out.

"I shall grant you death then? James Potter. I shall grant... your wish if you want it so badly..." James stood silent and glared, and all the while Voldemort was still hating the wand which pointed so strongly at him now more than ever. Even if it was completely useless, he would snap it in half.

"You're final stand shall go unnoticed... and soon... soon your family shall follow as well _Avada Kedvara!_"

He offered no time to react. Green light shot from the white hand and James was hit square in the chest. Before he could even look, had time to recognize the spell and jump out the way, he flew backwards and slumped over the stairs in an awkward position. His wand was still grasped in his hand, but his eyes were faded. As quickly as he had been, as quickly as he was done. The killing curse spared no one even the time to agonize. James was gone.

Voldemort laughed as he proceeded, stepping over the body and snatching the wand before continuing-on to his real goal. James Potter had fought well against him, but he didn't want anyone to think Potter was _brave_, or anything...that he was some sort of_ hero_ in going against him– for it was not a noble thing to defy the Dark Lord. No...by taking his wand, by leaving him looking defenceless in death, he wanted James to be seen as helpless in his final moments, perhaps the story would go. Perhaps they would say he was even grateful for dying at the hands of the Dark Lord. He would not win glory, not even in death.

"I'm going to Harry now..." Voldemort smiled at his futile attempts which were now dead and gone. No one questioned his power and authority, not James Potter... and certainly not Harry Potter. Not anyone now...not ever again.

Up the stairs he went, and he tucked James's wand safely into his pocket to break later. A sob from the room in front of him, he blasted open the final door to find yet another wand pointed straight at his face. It was a good thing he was to be getting rid of the Potter's, for this consistent defiance was annoying him. Whatever Severus had requested... this family of three needed to be taught their place did they not?

Voldemort ignored the woman for a moment and stepped in the small room. He saw her shrink back against the wall as his eyes trailed over to the crib in the corner. Then a form blocked him.

"Please!" The red-haired woman screamed and cried, such a contrast to the man below. "Please... kill me instead! Don't hurt Harry! Take me just don't hurt him!" But there it was...giving herself up for death to save her only son. What a Gryffindor thing to do.

"Silence." He pointed his wand at her and she shut up, "The boy must die. Step aside girl."

"Please..." her voice came out a cracked whisper in the dark and she dropped her wand in tears, in her need to speak out as if it was the last and only thing she could do, "Please kill me instead, just don't hurt Harry!"

"Step aside girl." Voldemort raised his wand in finality. What defiance! She was certainly testing his patience. And when she opened her mouth for yet another cry, another plea, in one quick beam she was sent head first into the wall. And just like her husband, the green soaked through her body and she moved no more. Her eyes glazed, and now she was sitting against the wall like a worn-out puppet. Voldemort smirked. What was he going to tell Severus now? He had promised. Oh well.

"One last..." He made his way over to the crib, the house now fallen silent in death. More than a single bloodshed had taken place, but it need not have been if this boy's worthless parents had allowed him free passage. Those who defy... will always pay the price.

He pointed his wand at the small baby boy with dark black hair, who was, ironically, asleep. He looked just like his father, and Voldemort...the rage he felt at James Potter had not died down yet, and his defiance swept over him once again. In all his experience, Voldemort's wand had never been this close to a body he was about to kill, and so he amused himself as he placed his wand lightly on the boy's forehead.

"Good-bye...Harry Potter. Perhaps you could have been a worthy opponent but not today. _Avada...Kedvara_..."

When the green shot forth from his wand, immediately Voldemort felt something was wrong; he wished to return his hasty actions but too late– he had just enough time to witness a scar forming rapidly from the boy's forehead before he was overcome by a sudden flash, and the very spell he had cursed bounced back! It ripped through his heart and tore him to pieces–if Voldemort could have screamed, even had the energy to shout he would have, for the pain he was experiencing was like no other known to him. The blast was absolute, instantaneous. Rubble crumbled around them both and dust filled his vision. Before he had time to realize what was happening to him, he wondered in a drifting time of space: was he being destroyed? Had the prophecy come true? Was he, Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard of all time...was he to be defeated by a child? How could this have happened! Oh his screams! And his anger at the boy could not be silenced!

A rock fell from the roof, quiet settling down on the scene as the smoke cleared. Voldemort realized himself, and stopped.

He felt far away, yet near...all around, yet confined to a form of sorts. And he felt incredibly weak. _What was he? Was he still... alive?_ Then he laughed, if he could even laugh. The fact that even though he was sure he had no more body anymore, that he had been vaporized into oblivion by his own fallen curse..._his secrets had been kept_ _and it had worked!_ He never thought he would see the day, but his horocruxes had saved him...to some degree, at least. The prophecy be damned now, he had lived through it had he not? Even though he had no body, and he was fading fast...he was not gone completely. Oh but he should flee now! The baby was crying beneath the rocks, he should get away before-

"No." His spirit flowed over to the baby boy, the mark upon his head now bright, blood red. He needed to think fast before his defeat was discovered. In all reality, he should run away before he was caught still lingering about. But if he could get to a decent a body first...? He needed a body fast, now that his own was destroyed! Imagine... if he ran right now... trying to live in a forest and feeding off of worthless animals while hiding away. Would he, the Lord of Darkness, succumb to such an existence? He would not get another chance like this...and he knew it. He needed to act now then, before the old fool made his way here; surely in the commotion all this had caused... someone would arrive soon.

"The boy then?" Voldemort mused. No. He would not spend his time waiting for him to grow. He needed a real body.

"Hah...and I am not taking a mud-blood's body..." He scanned Lily's dark form by the wall as he floated out the door. His dark mass moved forwards and looked down the stairs. At the bottom, a body of perfect youth and size, and of pure blood was waiting for him kindly. Yes, how ironic it all was, a true coincidence really. But for now... he had no choice. He would just take over Potter's body and then–

Voldemort did not even know what state he was in, whether true solid or gas...but either way, he slid himself into the open mouth and let himself sink into his soul. He realized with this James would come back to life; with Voldemort giving him his power... he would surely live once more. But right now he felt weak...powerless...he needed energy, time to recover from the spell the boy had cast on him. He needed to sleep for a short time until he could fully recover. For now he would wait...stealthily in hiding until...the right moment. He would let James have his fun...for now.

And as the last remaining bits darkness disappeared from sight, James Potter stirred once more, and flickered his eyes...

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_So here is a story lol. I wrote this a long time ago but I wanted to put it up... I'm sorry if this chapter/writing is bad lol, it's basically a "prologue" chapter. I do want to finish all my ideas/stories, but I can only do what I can. I haven't had the chance to really write lately my other stories, even though it's been so long sry :( I wrote most of my chapter and part of the next next chapter, but I feel stuck and uninspired...so if anyone randomly reads this, that's the reasons why...  
_

_ I also need to focus on myself, I've been so sad and school is hard for me, I try and get better but it's probably hopeless for me. I hope maybe this story will help me think and have more fun with fan-fiction. Alright, that's all :) I hope someone likes this, if not I can't do anything about it... I might rewrite some scenes if I need to. Also, if any facts about HP in here is wrong (like the secret keeper business or what the death eaters are doing), please let me know because I only go off my memory. And I don't know when I will update this, I wouldn't count on myself either lol.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Killing Curse**

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James Potter opened his eyes, the light coming back to him all at once. He blinked a few times, the white ceiling above looking odd and out of place. Where was he? His body was sprawled against the stairs, an odd position of his arm while his back ached an the awkward angle. He felt numb, shaky, and he wondered slightly if he was in heaven...or hell. He realized with a shock he was still in the deathly house of horrors; surely he had not been sent back...to relive _this_? He stirred uncomfortably as pain rushed back, aches of old creeping up his skin. Was he not shot...? His mind panicked as he remembered that snake-like face, the events that had left him in this miserable state. He had screamed and screamed and now James felt sure his voice was completely gone. _Did not Voldemort... strike him down, kill him in the light of green?_ He remembered it all in a horrid flash-back, like a time far away and yet... so close. His memory was fuzzy. He could not remember what had transpired since, only those red-eyes boring into him–he almost expected to see the face any second to finish him off, but when nothing of the sort occurred, when James was not shot again for a whole minute, he glanced down slowly at the hand beside him. If he could still move, surely... he was not dead yet? Something must have saved him, something must have blocked, and somehow... James had survived the killing curse.

Sitting up slowly, he noticed how eerily quiet it was.

"Harry..." The words slipped off his tongue and he shot up, more awake than he had ever been in his life.

It was painful to stand, painful to walk but James ran, crawled, anything he could to get up the stairs. Voldemort was not anywhere near him, and if he spent too long–!

His heart beating madly in panic, James now stood in front of a blown off door, the giant hole that used to lead to his son's bedroom. Leaning against the wall for support, he breathed and turned away. He must have...

James could see dust filtering about inside, a cool breeze lifting his hair. Not even inside and he could see pieces of wall littering the ground. No one could have survived this. He did not want to go in, he didn't want to-! He was scared, and he knew in his sinking heart that it was too late. He closed his eyes against the silence which was too much to bear, but inside he was screaming.

"Damn it! Damn it!" James pounded his fists to the ground, not enough to quench his broken heart. That Lily was dead, that Harry was dead, don't let it be true–! And that he, by some cursed spirit, had actually managed to survive! He wanted to die, he wanted to die so badly right then; he felt sick inside, and James nearly puked before even stepping a foot into the room. He bent over, and then cried out into the night.

"Lily..."

Sitting in the open doorway, he saw blank eyes stare back at him. Hidden by the dark shadows and debris from the explosion,with the knowledge that it was his wife, James rushed into the room and pulled her body free from the disaster. He shook her, but nothing. He then moved her slowly into a hug. She was completely lifeless, cold, limp; her red hair had never looked so dull. He could not accept it, he could not–! That he had failed, that he had failed to protect them all. His son was dead...his wife was dead...it was like a nightmare James wished he would stop living, for whoever had created this hell of a reality–

James sat there for some time, holding his wife's body in silence. He saw the moon creeping over the walls of a once peaceful little home. How could it have been torn so easily, how so much could have changed in one single night. And just as he was watching the sky and stars, wondering if this weren't just a terrible dream, did he hear something. Something so faint, so soft, that his heart threatened to quit. He placed Lily down, then shut her eyes one last time.

"I'll be back." He promised. James stood up, wiping his tears away while looking around.

He could hear, unless he was going crazy, a cry coming from the corner amidst the rocks. He couldn't believe it was possible, for surely his damaged senses must be playing tricks on him? The devil testing his fragile emotions? James reached for his wand, but realized in a panic it was not there. He turned to Lily, looked around the room frantically, silently wishing he would not have to go _back down there_ to fetch it, before finally he saw something shining in the dark by his feet.

God must have heard his hopeless situation, his desperate cries for help...for the wand laying on the ground was his very own. Somehow, someway, it had made it in his time of need! James quickly moved towards the sound in the corner, dirt and dust covering him as he trampled through. Carefully he started lifting the larger pieces of rock away and out of the house. After a few moments work, the sound grew louder and filled James with a blinding hope against even his darkest beliefs: _Harry was alive! _

Looking down to the small form, after moving all things out of the way, laying untouched by all the damage around him was Harry. James knelt down and wept for his saved life, picking up his son who still seemed entirely healthy. He couldn't even express the feeling of happiness settling over him, relief and forgiveness– that all hope was not lost. But then he noticed, beneath all that black hair, Harry's forehead was bleeding rather harshly and James set him down to examine the injury. It didn't look like a normal cut and wound, shaped in the odd figure of a lightening-bolt. He took out his wand, and desperately tried remembering a healing spell. James was a fighting auror not a doctor, and he had never paid much attention in his lessons in school. He needed to–

A loud crack from behind him made him turn, jump slightly and almost point his wand to attack before realizing who it was. There, standing at a distance in the crumbled room near the giant hole, Dumbledore, with his pointed starry hat and half-mooned spectacles resting upon his nose. Long silver-hair flowed down but in the depressing atmosphere, it all but seemed grey.

"James..."

"Please help Harry." he repeated quietly while standing and giving Harry over to the Wizard, not saying a word about anything else. Dumbledore looked down at the small baby boy who had now stopped crying and fell asleep in the man's arms.

"I just...it was just..."

"Please, James, do not hold back." And he looked away from his eyes in sorrow, letting James cry in silence, "It seems...a terrible tragedy has occurred here tonight, and for your loss... I am truly sorry." He looked over to Lily who lay on the floor, "We can discuss the details later. For now-"

"Please, Harry is injured" James pleaded, "If we don't help him now..." He sounded much older, so much wearier than his young age, and it shocked Dumbledore to hear such a tiredness of his usual spirited self.

"This scar that rests on Harry's head looks permanent, my dear James–and by that I do not mean that Harry is going to die." For James had gone pale with fear, "Harry will be fine, but you, however..." And with a small wave of his wand, he cleared Harry's head of most blood, leaving on the remains of the odd shape. James let out a breath of relief before Dumbledore continued on, "You have suffered much here tonight, and partly it is my own fault to blame. You need rest before-"

"No-no..." James voice came out in hollow staggers that reaped the very depths of what he had witnessed, what he had experienced. The true horrors of loss and pain, of death and then hope and then pain again. His eyes seemed cold and blank, staring into space. And no words could amount what he had gone through, and what he had failed in doing. It was not anyone's fault...but his own.

"Take Harry, and head back to my office." Dumbledore handed him his son and brought him out of his thoughts,

"From there, you can find a small sleeping potion in the top drawer of my desk; take it if you feel the need. I also suggest, for your sake as well as Harry's, not to part with him and not to leave my room at all costs. I shall be contacting a few people and shall meet with you shortly, if you desire to remain awake that is. If not, then I may see you in the morning. You need-"

"What about Lily? What would happen-"

"James, I shall bring Lily as well in due time. I will not let any harm come to her, I promise. Now, go with Harry and get some rest."

Dumbledore placed his hand on James's shoulder, and with a slight 'pop', sent him back to his office at Hogwarts. With a sigh Dumbledore turned to face the devastating scene before him, and if he was lucky, find a clue that lead to its causes.

* * *

James arrived in the headmasters office, full of odd gadgets, the usual spinning tops and devices. He had only been in here a few times, but now the memory was as if a distant relic of a different life. James felt nothing but sadness and searched for the potion if only out of desperation. And just like Dumbledore had instructed him, an elixir lay in the top drawer.

"Harry, do you want it?" James whispered and looked down at Harry's small form. Harry looked much better now, but his scar still burned bright. He made his way over to a chair for support, then crashed down in place. His mind was not well, the whole room seemed to be spinning yet he didn't even take the potion. His hands were sweaty and his whole body was getting hot. He would just wait...just wait for...a little while...

James didn't know how long he had been sitting in the office, waiting for something, anything, but he felt sure he had slipped into the space of a dream as Dumbledore appeared in a loud crack, along with two others, and woke him with a start. James had expected more to come, but then, with Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, he realized that after such a big commotion, so soon after the attack, too many people would not be good for James. And he was right– James probably could not handle answering too many questions right now.

The first to arrive with Dumbledore was of no surprise to him. Sirius came rushing over before Dumbledore held him back. But when James nodded his approval, Sirius was let go and came to give his best-friend a gripping hug. But James did not let go of Harry, not even when Sirius asked to hold him for a while.

James was staring silently at the other man who had come, and couldn't understand why Dumbledore would bring him of all people. But, funnily enough, James had no words for the man he had fought with so much over the years. Not even Severus Snape could take away from his loss and James just looked down.

"James, if you'd still like to leave and-"

"No. I'll stay." James spoke quietly from the chair in the corner but made no movement to draw any nearer. Sirius looked at him sadly, then decided to stand instead of sitting at the desk. Snape too, for some reason, looked beside himself and almost in rage. Dumbledore then quietly, calmly, went around his to his seat and stared solemnly at them all.

"It is with-"

"You promised me-" Snape was the first one to utter the words and all three heads looked around. James didn't know what he was talking about nor did he care much to listen.

"You-you!" but inevitably, Snape refused to say anything more in front of the others who only looked mildly interested. Dumbledore raised his arm and spoke carefully,

"We will talk later, Severus. I am sure you have much to say to me."

"Oh, that I do." Snape spat to the old man but stood still and listened anyway.

"We have all witnessed a great tragedy here at the Potter's household this very night. Voldemort..." Sirius flinched, "came to destroy a young Harry Potter in his sleep. Destroy the threat he believed Harry to be." He motioned with his hand to young Harry still resting in James arms,

"Now, as to what became of our dear Lord Voldemort...it is not yet known, but the most peculiar fact about this entire night..." He stopped and looked seriously towards James, "Is that somehow, miraculously, _you _have survived James. It is very important, then, dear James, that you reveal to us immediately, as soon as you can, what happened tonight when Lord Voldemort attacked, and how you managed to survive the grasp where so many have fallen before."

And as all heads turned to James for an answer, Sirius interjected with a shout,

"Can you not give the man a break! For God's sake Lily has only just died! Harry was only just attacked, and he himself barely managed to escape and now you want him to-!"

"It is very important, Sirius, that we answer this question as soon as possible. If, however, James wants to sleep, then I will have no objections to letting him rest. But we must question him soon, and it must come some way or another. From my deductions at Godric's Hollow, Voldemort may very well still be alive, and if we don't stop him now-"

"He-he's still alive?" James whispered in a croak. He had thought after the prophecy, after everything that happened he was finally destroyed-! And besides... he wanted to know if the man who had killed Lily, nearly took everything away from him was still out there...

"Yes, James. It seems to me, that the scar upon Harry's head is the sign. It is merely a guess at this stage, but I believe that when Voldemort tried to kill young Harry with the curse, it... rebounded against him and destroyed his body. However, while this would normally kill anyone else, it may not have killed Lord Voldemort. For he has...many secured ways of living through such things as even death, but that is another matter. The point being that, it may be a long while before he ever shows up again, but if we do not act soon, it may be too late. The world today will be celebrating at his defeat, and Harry will be seen as a hero. As for his followers... they will have been notified of it already. We must, therefore, consider all the details before going any further into the matter. James, what is your decision?"

James looked down at Harry. His son would be famous for defeating such a powerful dark wizard, for living through the curse? But what about him? James gulped almost as though he were guilty,

"I...I don't know". Was all he could say.

Dumbledore looked at him confused, age etched on his face as he took in James's words,

"And what do you mean by that, James? That you don't remember or–"

"No, dear God no. I remember... far too well for my liking. He came in..." James spoke to himself in the corner, a rasped haul as he remembered the details in a sudden flash as though reliving the moment of but hours ago,

"I remember... he spoke to me. I was guarding the stairs...buying time for Lily and Harry to find some sort of safety. But time was no good..." He held Harry tight in his horrors and went on, "I knew we were done for. I didn't give in, I absolutely refused to! He punished me and then-"

"Yes James?" Dumbledore narrowed his eyes,

"He cursed me and then...there was the green light and I don't know. I just woke up..."

Sirius moved away from James, and for a split-second making him believe Sirius blamed him for having lived. But he knew that was not the case, for Sirius was merely making his way over to another chair to gather himself. Snape was silent and looking out the window, and Dumbledore was waiting for more.

"I woke up, and I believe he missed me." James looked down and paled. Why did he feel so... guilty? Because he couldn't remember what actually happened? Because he had survived when he wasn't supposed to? It felt like he was hiding something yet there wasn't anything at all.

"I ran upstairs... but by the time I arrived... it was already too late. Lily was dead, and for some horrible hours I believed Harry as well. I believed–"

"Alright. That's enough James. I have heard and understood it all. Thank you for telling so much, but I think you should rest now. The hospital wing is in your complete use, if you want to head down now?"

It was a tempting offer, and James's whole body felt tired and sore. But if he slept now...perhaps he would never want to wake up.

"What about...Harry? I don't want to leave him Albus."

"Then you can bring him with you."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Traitor**

* * *

Once they arrived down at the hospital wing, he made his way over to the bed. Nobody said a word and James meant to keep it that way. He just wanted... to be alone; rest his head forever in darkness. Everything hurt so badly, both inside and out.

Dumbledore motioned for the others to leave, and Sirius had a hard time but eventually gave in. They left, and then James was sitting down next to the deserted beds alone. It was dark outside, but clearly morning was coming soon by the faded light against the walls. He closed the curtains. The sleeping potion was still clutched in his hand, and in one quick swig, he gulped it all down. In truth, James only needed a little to fall asleep, but he didn't really care. Right now...he really _did_ need to drink it all. James just wanted to fall into deep, pitch-black sleep and never think again...for a little while at least.

"Sorry... Harry."

He laid down and placed himself on the mattress so that both of them could be at peace. His eyes were getting heavy, his limbs felt like bricks as the effects of the potion settled in. Soon, before he even realized it , he was out in a flash. And James drifted further into his dreams, a world of fantasy and terror, illusions of happiness with his wife, but then that unmistakably white, white face that slithered down to grab him, kill him by his throat; James would not get it easy...not even in this world.

Voices could be heard in a distant time, but he took no notice. James struggled against the sheets of his bed, his palms sweaty as nightmares of his most recent torture raining down on his mind.

_Voldemort was here... his horrid face like a ghost against the blackness that James was currently standing in. He felt a tug on his stomach and he collapsed. It felt worse than the crucatus curse, like his very soul was threatening to rip out of him and yet not a single scream could escape him. He heard someone laugh at his pain, and then he realized in a sick gasp it was himself. _

_ The next second James was standing in front the doorway, the quiet, creepy hallway that had been so normal until the moment of that night... the feelings of despair again, the haunting silence that had made him want to die coming all the more back to him. _

_He was walking down the street, he could see the little Potter's cottage up ahead. He knew what lay inside, and he felt the great happiness that at last he could destroy the thing that caused him such distress. He would be safe, at last, and no one would stand in his way now. His spy had done good._

_ James felt funny. This wasn't him, yet the body was walking so confidently on its own. Then James saw the door being opened forcefully, it's hinges falling to pieces as he fired his way inside. He saw himself, oddly, in front of him as a bony white hand raised like his own. Words came out of his mouth, but James couldn't hear. He saw his wife run up the stairs, Harry crying in her arms. _

_ The next second everything went blank. James wanted to stop the body from moving, but he walked on up the steps, slowly, and the happy feeling in his chest made him want to puke. Stop! Don't go near them!_

_ "Haha...what can you do in a dream, James Potter?"_

_ The white hand blasted through the door of his only son's bedroom to find a red-haired woman in tears and a look of fear lining her eyes. She begged, she wept, and James felt something inside him rise, and then he screamed as his own hand moved forward to strike her down. He knew who's eyes he was looking though. He saw her body fly apart, to the wall and fall over in a final stillness. What-a-bastard!_

_ Then he was staring down at Harry. No! And James screamed and tried, pulled with all his strength but no matter what, he did he was forced to watch as his own hand moved in for the kill. _

_ "Yes, Potter. Suffer...suffer in your dreams..."_

"Wake-up...Wake-up James!" A voice came to him disjoint and in pieces, his mind unable to comprehend it. It sounded so familiar too.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes darting around and he felt a fever running through his body. But with stricken fear, he realized Harry was not in his arms and he jumped. He tried to get to his feet only to be pushed down forcefully. Sirius was holding him roughly to the bed, but James was struggling against him, fiercely, in madness and blinding fury; why was he holding him back! He to get to Harry before–!

"It's alright! It's just a dream James! Calm down!"

"Lily! Harry, where is– Harry! Stop it! Stop don't go near him!"

"He's right here James, see? Stop fighting and wake up!" And Sirius finally managed, at last, to calm down his friend against his delusions with a gripping push. Sirius brought Harry over slowly and at realizing his son was still safe, not back at the house in the crib or buried beneath rubble, James came to his senses and relaxed himself. It was just a dream...just... a dream–but one hell of a real one. James could still feel that coldness rush over him, his body moving against his own will, the laughter, the happiness...and then when he himself had uttered the words to strike against his own wife and son.

Sirius looked wearily at his best-friend and sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair and both of them just stared at each other for a good, long minute. James had, in all honesty, thought himself dead on the stairs. He really thought...he'd never see Sirius again. Both of them knew in that moment how close it had really been, but neither said a word and merely took in the others existence. Sirius looked like hell, and James had the feeling he probably hadn't slept since.

"Where's Remus...?" James asked vaguely while taking Harry back again and holding him once more. He felt slightly angry that in his sleep Harry had been taken but quickly let it go. He was wrapped in a small blanket, and his scar was still clear as day. For some reason James felt apprehensive about it, like it might hurt him or that he needed to do something...something...

"It was a full moon last night, he probably still needs a bit more time to recover from...from the shock of what's happened. I've seen him recently... but he doesn't look well. Dumbledore left back to his office a long time ago with Snape and..."

James drowned out his rambling, staring into space again. He sort of wished he was still asleep, in darkness even if it brought more pain. This talk or normalcy was killing him. James didn't care about anything anymore, and it showed in his blank eyes. Staring out the window, it seemed morning was on it's way and James couldn't believe he was even here to see it.

"And Peter hasn't shown up yet." Was how Sirius ended and James looked up, noting how bitter he had uttered the name, and how angry his friend looked with his brows hung in confusion. Suddenly, in horrible flash-backs...at the very sound of Peter's name all feelings of emptiness came and was replaced by a black hole in his heart. Something akin to anger and disbelief swept him up in a rush and he was purely frozen, all realizations coming forth.

"P-Peter..." James felt sick, absolutely_ sick_ and the very name made him want him to vomit. He remembered him... like it was just...

"Dumbledore told me not to talk about it until you've..." Sirius still looked angry, but just by James's pale look, it seemed to rekindle his feelings for revenge.

"The rat, I'll kill him that-!"

The doors flew open, and both James and Sirius looked over, the frame revealing none other than Remus Lupin. His hair looked more dishevelled as he rushed towards the bed. He had no words for what had happened, so instead he just looked and stared down sadly. Then,

"I-I heard from Dumbledore. Is-is that Harry? Is...is he alright?"

"Yeah...he's fine." Or as fine as James would allow for. He felt overly protective of Harry and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get over it.

Sirius got up with a sudden determination and spirit, "Remus, tell Dumbledore I've gone out for a while...and that I'm not quite sure when I'll be back. There's a little something that needs to be... taken care of..."

"Don't bother..." James whispered darkly, his black hair covering his expression "By now...he's surely... gone."

"But James! He sold you out, LILY OUT! The traitor turned you in and you want to let that go!"

"Do you mean...I thought..." Remus looked between the two, and then at Sirius.

"Peter he...he was the only one who could...have." James looked down, hardly able to believe he couldn't have seen it coming. Peter was always a little shy...a little withdrawn, and if it were up to James he probably wouldn't have been friends if it weren't for Peter always tagging along himself. But despite all that, despite his nature he had not been particularly bothered by him...he even did, after so many years together, consider him a trusted friend...and he never... ever thought he would betray him like this..._this_!

"The filthy rat that clings to power, I'll kill him for betraying you, James, no matter whether you or anyone else stop me...I won't forgive him for what he's done."

"I thought Sirius was the keeper?" Remus was stalk white and stiff, his hands gripping the bedpost for support, "I thought-"

"No. It was a last minute... decision...we thought it safe."

All three heads hung low, a great sigh shifting through the air. Even Sirius and his rage at Peter, he could only stare helplessly at the situation. For nothing could be done about it now, and whether or not he took revenge, it wouldn't bring Lily Evans Potter back.

"I'm glad you're still here though, James..." Remus said at last, "When I first heard... I thought for sure you had–and at least now Harry won't be parentless. Perhaps it was fate for him to miss you..."

Although Remus meant well by his words, James felt something tug at his heart and he swallowed hard. He felt hot, sweaty, and it was all irrational really. It was because James knew, in his dreams and sleep it had come back to him in a daze. And since then, everything about his entire existence felt like a lie. In his haste and confusion...he had told Dumbledore Voldemort missed– that was the reason he survived. Now, however, James was wasn't so sure. James could distinctly remember the feeling of flying back...the feeling of hitting the wall and crumpling down...the feeling of something hitting him dead on in the chest. He remembered being hit...and he remembered death. But if all that were true...was he even meant to be here, alive and a freeman? _How was he here!_ Harry was one thing, but for James...there seemed no possible way he could have lived through the curse. And so, just by sitting here with Harry, hearing people tell him they were thankful he was still alive...it all felt so very, very wrong. Yet what exactly could he do about it now? Nothing. And it's not like he wasn't grateful...but the feeling it was all a dream couldn't help but slip in his mind.

"Yeah...I was just... lucky..."

* * *

"NO! THE DARK LORD IS NOT DEAD! HE'S NOT DEAD!" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed into the air, her black boots twisting, her wand waving wildly to those who had been thinking of giving in, "YOU COWERDLY THEIVES! THE DARK LORD IS NOT DEAD AND ALL TRAITORS SHALL BE-!"

"Bellatrix! Think clearly for a moment!" Lucius Malfoy whispered in a dangerous voice, afraid their group might be caught lingering near the disaster of the Potter house so soon after the incident.

They were standing in a graveyard near Godric's Hallow, a day after the fall. The sun was peaking over the horizon, but the morning breeze made them all feel cold and uncomfortably chill. For even after a day... there was still no news from their Lord, and while the inner circle had felt the need to come to the point of their Master's disappearance, things were not looking good. They had all felt the dark mark burn at around midnight, but soon it vanished completely–a thought which scared them all. It was known to most Death Eaters that their Lord had come here to kill a Harry James Potter...but to think that it was possible...? That an infant could have defeated the darkest wizard of all time? Lucius was shivering at the thought! Rumours had spead and they were_ already_ praising him for their Lord's defeat! The boy-who-lived...his entire existence unnerved them all. No, not even Lucius could fully believe _he _was gone, however... all the evidence was pointing that way, what was he to do? Harry James Potter had lived...and his name was being shouted across the county like wildfire–a hero! Meanwhile, their Lord was nowhere to be seen, and everyone was scrambling in confusion, all raids cancelled, all future plans for takeover dead. At the very height of their powers, all had fallen! Everyone panicked immediately, it was the most natural thing to do. Some had escaped, fled in fear...and now Lucius was just desperate to find a solution for the rest, and fast before their entire existence crumbled to pieces and all of them thrown into Azkaban. And especially for him–Lucius Malfoy was an honourable member of the Ministry...he was not willing to go to prison for life and defamed for his involvement.

"We cannot be seen here, we must be rational now that our Lord has gone missing! I have not said he is dead-"

"Ah, but you were thinking it, _were you not_ _Lucius_?" Bellatrix spit back with venom, looking to the quiet members all around her, "Haha. AHAHAHA! You will all be PUNISHED FOR THIS!" Her voice retched as she looked almost in tears, "THE MOMENT OUR LORD COMES BACK YOU WILL ALL PAY DEARLY FOR THIS! Do you really think A MERE BABY-!"

"Bellatrix! DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THE PROPHECY! BE RATIONAL THE DARK LORD IS NOT HERE AND MOST LIKELY HE HAS BEEN-!"

_"CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CR-!"_

_"STUPIFY!"_ Lucius roared and in all Bellatrix's madness she had not seen it coming. Crabbe lay on the ground after being struck by her curse and before she could counter, she fell to the ground in a bright glow of red.

"Now..." Lucius was huffing, pulling his sleeves but then continued on after taking a short breath to release his anger, "As for the rest of you...we need to decide what to do from now on... whether we give–"

"Did you know... James Potter is alive as well?" Barty Crouch Jr. spoke while sitting on a gravestone, his eyes downcast and picking his nail with a pick. It was not a fact that was well known, most rumours he had heard focused on the boy Harry Potter and him alone. Yes, for Barty Crouch too, just as Bellatrix, he did not believe his Master dead even despite what Lucius and the others were trying to tell him. Still... the whole situation was fishy. He had to find his Master, and soon. He could be in trouble.

"What rubbish is this? Potter could not have-"

"Oh, but it is true. I saw him leaving, taking the baby Harry Potter with him. I heard him screaming into the night for his losses! Oh, it was something fun...but then I had to leave. Didn't want to be caught by the old man."

"I thought we had agreed, Barty, that we would not go out last night? I thought we had agreed to wait? You could have risked-!"

"I couldn't stop myself Lucius. Master might have needed me."

"J-James is...?" Peter Pettigrew spoke up, whispered far from the group, his ears apparently pricked for any news regarding the Potters. He gulped down, his mouth dry, and he licked his lips frantically in speed. He had been dragged along for the ride by Lucius, and was standing near the forest on the side; but at the sound of the name which carried over, at hearing James possibly being alive after it all, he was pale and stunned. He fidgeted with his collar and clothes, face frowned and worried at the fact his friend actually managed to survive! He felt halfly glad, and yet halfly scared beyond his wits. He was a traitor, they would find out! They would never forgive him, perhaps even track him down for revenge! And now his master had gone too? W-what should he do?

"Oh yes, Peter, James is indeed alive and well!" Barty smiled and laughed, walking over to the shaky man and gripping him around the shoulder like a trusted friend,

"Looks like you won't have any place to go now, does it? A rat cornered on all sides, our Master missing in the thick of all your troubles. They'll surely know of your betrayal. You can't be a spy anymore...and you can't play the innocent with your friends still alive, can you? Where will you go hmm? Odds don't seem quite in your favour..."

"Barty, leave the him alone and get back here." Lucius was getting annoyed by all the distractions, "We need to discuss-"

"And as for you Lucius, I've grown sick of following your orders. If you want to leave and be safe behind the Ministry, go ahead. But Bellatrix and I will not be dogs. We'll keep looking for Master, Peter here too isn't that right Peter?"

"Y-yes..." Peter looked down, slowly realizing he had no choice in the matter. He didn't want to be alone in this situation, and this was the best chance he'd ever get. Barty Crouch Jr. was the son of a respectable family, and he'd faked his way this far without being seen. Bellatrix Lestrange was already a well-known Death Eater, but no one had been able to catch her for her crimes. Peter was afraid at the thought of following these ruthless people into danger, but he couldn't turn back now. And by staying with them...maybe he'd actually...be safe.

Lucius saw the quick alliance forming between them and then turned to the few others left standing in the circle,

"Fine. Tell the others and anyone still around after today..." He addressed to the group, "Do not associate with anyone if you don't wish to be caught. Do not admit to anything." He turned, "Barty. I suppose we part ways here. I know how to be _useful_ and it is not sitting in Azkaban after a foolish attempt to fight a lost war."

And then in a spin Lucius Malfoy disappeared, the rest shortly followed leaving young Barty, a stone looking Bellatrix, and a rather sweaty Peter Pettigrew in their wake.

"Let's go find Master." Barty ignored Malfoy's last comment and shot his wand at Bellatrix and she unfroze.

"I"LL GET THAT-!" As soon as she got to her feet she was looking even more frightening, her black hair flying up, angry having been stunned in the back. After losing her Lord she was clearly out of her emotions and self. But Barty spoke over her attempts to go after Malfoy,

"Bella! We can't afford to waste time, let him go. _We_ know that we are faithful, and _we_ will surely be rewarded for it later. Master need us more now that the rest have decided to save their worthless selves. We need to start our search... do you know what I'm thinking of?"

"Yes. I heard what you said." She breathed in heavily, a few times out. The graveyard was eerily still, but after a moment, she flicked her wand at a nearby tree, barely missing Peter's face as bark exploded into a thousand shards. Birds flew at the commotion and took flight.

"So James Potter lives? How admirable. AHA!"

"Yes. Our Master needs us, and Potter is the only one who could know of his whereabouts. We must capture him and get him to spill."

"PETER!" Bellatrix yelled in a scream, "Get over here... we may need your help."

"W-what? But I can't-!"

"Will you do as I say, Peter, or will you have to be forced? I have many ways AND WE CAN'T AFFORD TO WASTE ANY MORE TIME SO HURRY UP AND GET OVER HERE BEFORE I MAKE YOU!"

Peter was frozen and pale, but somehow managed to shuffle his feet over to the witch.

"But w-what can I do? I c-can't-"

"You're James's friend, aren't you? I heard you used to be little school friends?" She sounded delightfully happy and it made Peter scared for what she was thinking of. He'd already betrayed his friend once and it killed him inside. Surely he couldn't do it again now that he had survived?

"B-but I've been caught as a traitor, I can't-!"

"Not necessarily Peter." Barty came over and looked utterly calm even despite Peter's plump, sweaty face,

"While you may have given up the password, but it doesn't necessarily mean you're guilty. All you have to do is gain his trust. Gain it, then lead him back to us. If things go wrong, however..." He put his wand to Peter's throat,

"Well, you won't want to go wrong, will you Peter? Gain his trust. Gain it back, or else you won't live on either side are we clear?"

_"Yes yes I'll do it I promise!"_ He squeaked out in pain. Barty was cutting off his oxygen supply but at his answer let go. Peter breathed out heavily and fell to his knees.

"Now hurry Peter and go!" Bellatrix pulled him up and pushed him in the direction of the forest, "Yes Peter, run, run back to James... _that's it! _And get him to meet with us!" With a groan which barely escaped his lips, the feeling of wanting to cry as he was surely heading to no where good, Peter went out with a crack heading to the one place he never thought he would. His heart felt heavy, but his instants for survival were the only thing for him. It was do this...betray his friend_ again_... or die. And for Peter, there really was only one option.

"Barty, do you actually think he'll manage?" Bellatrix looked to the spot where Peter had left,

"No. Not a chance. But either way...it's good of us to have a backup plan."


	4. Chapter 4

**Coming Home**

* * *

"Are you sure you want to leave so soon James? It would probably be best to stay-"

"No...no. I just need to leave...some fresh air... before... the funeral..."

James was sitting in the headmaster's office. It had been five days since the attack, and since then James had spent most of his time cooped up in the hospital wing. As a result, Sirius and Remus had offered him a place to stay outside of Hogwarts; but of course, with the conditions that they surround the place with protective wards. James was thankful for their offer, because personally (besides just wanting to escape) he thought he was going crazy the longer he stayed inside. James seemed to do a lot of sleepwalking lately in his recent nightmares, and regardless of the amount of spells and potions they used to try and calm him down, his friends were forced to watch over him as he slept. And it seemed to be getting worse as the nights progressed, for just last night Sirius had caught James before he grabbed his wand and cursed them all in his nightly terrors.

"Very well then." Dumbledore seemed to understand James's situation and sighed, "I shall make the arrangements for you to stay elsewhere. However..."

James held his breath in anticipation,

"However... you need to be cautious James. Even though Voldemort's followers have been gradually disbanding, it is not unlikely that some will want to take revenge. Therefore, we must protect both Harry and yourself alike, and make sure to not overstep the boundaries I will be placing over the home. I shall also take-"

"I know Albus, I'm not a student anymore. You don't need to remind me...I wouldn't let anything happen to Harry... again..."

"And yourself James?" Dumbledore spoke softly yet sternly over his clasped hands, "Do not be rash... and bold like I know you so well. Do not... seek revenge."

"Is the Order still running from Gimmerald place? When will Lily be-"

"James, please promise me." Dumbledore continued over him, "Promise me that you won't go running off recklessly...chasing after lost life. Promise me you won't go looking for trouble. We shall hold Lily's funeral in three days...I understand if you want something private, but we still need to have proper pro-"

"It's alright Albus. The Order can attend, you can have your protection around the church and I'll just stand by and-"

"James-"

"Really, it's fine. I'm going now Albus..." He sat up abruptly and headed to the door. With his back turned, he placed his hand on the knob and spoke, "But I can't promise you anything. I never could keep my promises. Good-bye."

And then he walked out, a short click that left Dumbledore alone in the semi-darkened sky. It bothered the headmaster that he didn't even slam the door in frustration, but rather a quiet, almost gentle manner which meant something much deeper than mere anger was settling inside. Much more than mere revenge. He frowned at James's irrational mood, but he knew it could not be helped. Not with the loss of his wife and near eradication of his entire family. James was always a bit foolhardy, and he had never listened to the rules. He probably wouldn't stop at anything until he avenged his wife and son; he wouldn't leave things unsettled like that. Breathing deeply, Dumbledore took off his glasses and wiped them down. He would have to have a talk with Remus before letting him go.

But besides all this...besides James's desperation at the loss of Lily... there was something else which was gravely bothering the headmaster... and causing him restless nights of worry. It was James's blank mind, his nervous attitude when the topic arose to how he survived. Dumbledore had tried to question him once more, but James had refused in practical fear, like he was hiding some fact about the night. He wasn't exactly sure what it was, but James's entire survival was something that needed to be revisited and analyzed– for the more he investigated the disaster scene, the more things didn't add up.

Dumbledore had found no evidence to suggest James could have escaped unscathed...or even alive at all. Harry was the exception, of course, but the blast from the reflected curse and his scar...at least those were the signs of a heavy fight. With James...there was simply nothing. If Voldemort had attacked... why would he carelessly leave James behind? It didn't make sense to do so. Dumbledore was sure Voldemort wouldn't have risked missing James. No, there was something else going on...something...

Tapping his wand lightly against the desk, he hummed a small tune. Such were the troubles of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leader of the Order of the Phoenix... and he knew far too well by now: it was never easy to be the wise one. He always had to do the unpleasant things.

He got up from his desk and walked around in no particular fashion. James would now have to be watched, his actions checked closely. James wouldn't like it, Dumbledore knew...perhaps even bluntly refuse. But what else could be done about it? The funeral was being held soon. Perhaps he would wait until then.

* * *

_A few days later..._

* * *

It was snowing. The Order had the entire church sealed off, a few guards placed around the streets, and unlike the bad premonitions Mad-Eye Moody had kept warning of days prior...nothing happened. Lily's funeral went on, no revengeful death eaters, no stranglers of the dark who wished to finish Harry Potter off (or James Potter...for James had been told his survival had somehow spread around). The early November air was cold, and even with all the protection and spells... it didn't quite protect them against the sadness they each felt, and the mood was reserved and fair as they paid there last tributes.

James had wished for something private, but with Dumbledore's orders they needed quite a few people to attend. Dumbledore had said that their old house would be left alone in the future, and after the attack there was much work to do to erase the evidence for the muggles. But James didn't really care what happened to any of it, because as far as he was concerned he never really wanted to see that house again.

The snow was coming down fast now, the sun hidden beneath the dark grey sky, and the last time he looked on her face she looked almost happy. She held her wand against her chest, and somehow looked as stubborn and prideful as she had in life, like she might just pop up and tell James this was all a funny joke. He didn't cry, and instead he watched as she was levitated downwards. He held Harry close, and wondered what it would have been like if he had died too. He shuttered. There it was again. That surreal feeling of his own existence coming back to haunt him. He pushed the feeling aside...his face frowning against the pain of reality. If he had died too, he would be right here... next to her. He was standing on his own grave then...wasn't he?

'James...James!' Sirius called to him from beyond the gates, far away and down the street. He realized he had been standing there for so long, now he was the only one left. How much time had passed since the ceremony ended? Sirius came over and took the crying Harry away for a moment,

'Come on...' He said sadly while pulling James along by his sleeve. And with their heads hung low against the storm, soon afterwards they left the snowy white churchyard and headed home.

* * *

_One week later..._

* * *

A week has passed since the end of the funeral, and James knew what his friend's were doing to try and cheer him. It was evident by their happy, yet strained, conversations with him, the way they played with Harry which forced James to watch–it was evident that they were trying to distract him back to normal life. But besides the fact they were so obvious in their attempts, James knew he couldn't go back. He felt distinctly different since that day, different from everyone and more aware of his place in the world. James also had the impression that his friends were aware of something too–Harry, after all, was becoming quite well-known in the wizarding world. He had seen everything from newspaper articles on the defeat, to rumours spreading around about Harry's true origins, and Dumbledore had since ordered that James should stay away from all forms of media till things cooled down. Sirius and Remus, however... James was sure they had probably heard some odd rumour every now and then, which would explain why they were so overly cautious around him, or whispering behind his back when they thought he didn't see. James didn't really like all this new attention forming around him and Harry, and sometimes he wished his friends would treat him normally even after all that occurred.

James had been living in a small house Sirius acquired through Dumbledore, residing in a muggle neighbourhood outside of the city. He hadn't really seen anyone outside since, and while Sirius and Remus had frequently gone to meetings, James had preferred to stay at home in quiet. Tonight, it seemed there was another gathering at the usual number 12 Gimmerald place. It had been almost two weeks since Lily's death, and the Ministry had been busy recapturing death eaters and reclaiming their lost structure. The Order also appeared to have lots of work, though James had no idea what.

'It's rather piled-up outside, isn't it?' Remus poured some coffee in a mug and then sat at the dinner table in the kitchen. James was looking outside the window at all the snow which had gone from mild to worse in a matter of days.

'Yeah, ' He replied, and kept it short. James didn't feel like talking much lately, and he often he was overly tired though he knew not why. He could feel Remus growing uncomfortable at the silence, and partly he didn't know if he was glad for it or not.

'James...Sirius and I are heading off again tonight... Dumbledore has called for another meeting. But...I do fear what he is thinking and... don't be mad but...'

'But what?' James looked over, for the first time, relatively surprised by his friend's hesitancy to speak. What was he trying to say? Why would he be mad...? It was true... both Remus and Sirius had been a little distant lately with going out so much...but he had been distant as well. He wanted to be alone most times, drawing away into isolation. James looked away and gulped down; were they trying to put pressure on him? Were they trying to get him to open up more?

'Well...even I don't know what he's planning...or what's going on...but he seems to think your–'

'Remus!' Sirius had come bursting in through the kitchen door, making both James and Lupin jump a few feet. His face was beat-red, his hair tangled as if he had run quite a distance to get here,

'Come over here, quick!' He ushered urgently with his hands, but when James made a face of question he stopped,

'No, sorry. Just Remus.'

The young wolf got up wearily from his chair. Looking back to James, a slight sad expression, the two made their way into the living room and James could hear them whisper back and forth. A sudden barking laugh told James Remus had probably made some sort of joke, and he felt odd, at the sudden exclusion from his friends. It hurt him, but at the same time he no longer cared. If they wanted to be happy without him, then fine. Maybe he'd just pack up and leave if they didn't want him around. He was probably just a burden anyways... with his depressing mood twenty-four seven. James had wanted to visit Lily again as well...

_ Dingdong!_ The sound of the doorbell carried throughout the house, and all conversations stopped. For a moment, James's heart raced. Something had actually happened in his static life, his silent wishes for action coming true? He decided to get up, he decided, on a whim, to answer the door when usually he ignored such things. Who could it possibly be? This place had spells to prevent such a thing...right? His curiosity peaked to a high, and he made his way over slowly. But as soon as James made for the door, Sirius rushed into the room to stop him.

'What are you doing?' James asked a little annoyed, Sirius's form blocking his way forward.

'James, why don't you go upstairs for a moment? It's surely no one important and it would only make you-'

'I'm fine...I think I can handle this simple task? Why don't you just go back and continue your conversation with Remus?' James spoke a little more coldly than he intended, heat flaring inside but it didn't matter–he was angry and it showed.

'No-no...' Sirius still did not move, unconcerned by James's stiff remark. His arms were on either side of the wall, protecting the front entrance and refusing direct eye-contact –he was so obviously hiding something that it made James question who was behind the door. Now James really wanted to see.

'Move.'

'No.'

'Move.'

_Dingdong!_ The bell rang again and now it was Sirius's turn to jump. He looked a bit red, cursed under his breath and then muttered something about having to speak with Dumbledore later. Remus came in from the other hall and started to pull James away as the bell rang again. James didn't have much time to think, but whoever it was, they were impatient.

'What do you think your doing?' He spluttered as his grey-haired friend pushed him into the living room and then locked the door behind.

'Trust me, out of all people who bear a grudge, you'd rather not want to meet this person now.'

'Who is-'

His friend then grimaced as a loud bang sounded from outside. It almost sounded like someone had forced their way in, and James jumped up and pulled his wand. Maybe he was edgy at loud noises, maybe he was afraid the Dark Lord had somehow come back to reality and was here to finish him off. Then he heard Sirius yell, and another shout told him something entirely different was unfolding. He almost dropped his wand as James recognized the strangers drawling voice.

'Who said to invite _him_?' He looked at Remus's guilty, hidden face.

'It wasn't a choice I particularity liked myself. I tried to explain, suggest something else but–'

He suddenly backed away from the door as a force made it slam open. Sirius came in, huffing and looking like he'd just fought off a particularly large beast, and the other figure who followed was one whom James never thought he'd see, for a long time at least. His mere face brought back his near dead emotions... as if that was the only good thing to come out of _his_ suffocating company.

'Well, it's quite the party you have going on here James...' The greasy-haired man made his way into the living room, looking just like he had the night in the office, and not so unlike his old book-worm self. Severus Snape looked to James and for some reason he was still clutching his wand. He supposed his old feelings didn't quite die down just yet.

'I'm here on the headmasters orders. I am here to-'

'Yeah, and we'll be questioning that order right now.' Sirius spoke up in a temper, the tension in the room so thick no one dared even breathe. Remus shuffled his feet and looked down, unable to think of any decent conversation to talk about. Sirius's eyes were darting to James and then to the fireplace on the side, perhaps to go question Dumbledore about the matter straightaway. And all the while James and Snape never lost eye-contact. He couldn't imagine what was going on his mind, or even what he thought of James now. But either way, all of a sudden he let himself cool and his feelings died down. Why was he so worked up? None of it mattered...anymore. This was old news.

'Leave, we don't want you here, and we know you don't want to be either.' He said in a quiet voice, not looking anywhere anymore.

'I'd love to leave, in fact that option would suit me best. But I am here on the Headmasters will that I stay for the time being. Now, if you don't mind, where is Harry Potter? I assume you feed the boy, at least?'

James was growing frustrated– this man had no sense of sympathy at all and suddenly James didn't regret anything he had ever done to him. If he was acting like this, even after all that occurred James would surely hurt him again for all he cared. He snapped his wand up but Snape was too quick and now they were equally matched.

'Let me remind you, _James, _ that I am far more skilled in duels than you'd probably like to believe. I am not the same... as before, let me guarantee you that.' His dark black hair was hung at both sides, his black clothes to match and he looked slightly intimidating despite his slim body– no one in the room questioned this wizards desire to learn dark arts as it was rumoured he did.

'Get out of here, don't insult him you–' Sirius started and black eyes trailed over,

'Oh yes, I'd forgotten about the dog. He's quite the loud one, isn't he?'

Sirius rushed over, apparently ready to tackle him bare-handed but Snape shot a spell and he was forced to dodge. He stood up, then went over beside James and in an effort to regain his pride, took out his own wand. It was now two-against-one but Snape didn't seem to mind. Meanwhile Remus was standing, unsure how to solve all this, but regardless he appeared deeply involved in examining the rug. It really did need some cleaning.

'Let me ask you again. Where is Harry Potter? If you don't answer, I'll be forced to search the house.'

'Why do you care where my son is? It's none of your business.'

James almost felt light-headed, dizzy as he tried to keep his appearance up. He knew Snape was Lily's old child-hood friend, yet he never understood why. Seeing him here reminded James of all that. Snape's arrival had brought back some sort of life he had been missing... emotions he'd forgotten since the accident. He just wanted this man to leave and be gone from his life forever. And what did he want with Harry? James wouldn't let him near Harry if he could help it.

'Believe me, Potter, it is my business now. The Headmaster has asked for Harry's safety, and I'll be staying here to reinforce it.'

At this, James had forgotten all thoughts and everything from his mind vanished, his face turning pale. Dumbledore had sent _him_ to look after _his_ son? What, was he not good enough anymore?

Snape smirked as James's thoughts etched across his face, everything told in his drooping wand and shaky demeanour.

'Yes, Potter. The headmaster believes you incapable of taking care of the boy, and has sent someone with more-'

Spells fired instantly, from seemingly all directions. James had sent a stinging curse, Sirius had gone a little further with a full blown stun, and meanwhile Snape had reflected both while sending in a fury his own conjugation which, thankfully, no one had taken a hit to be known. Lupin had now sprung into action as well, and Snape backed down as he realized he had too many people to take-on.

'That's enough, Snape.' Remus spoke above his two friends who he was standing in front, 'You've gone too far, and I think we both know that's not the reason for your arrival. Harry is upstairs.' He addressed the other who returned a gratified smirk. James let out a sound from behind and Sirius looked outraged as well. But none-the-less the werewolf continued on,

'If you do go, however, it would have to be under our watch. Are you in agreement with that, James, for now at least?'

James knew his friend meant well, but he still hated looking at the black-haired, hooked nosed man who was barging in on his life ever since he had first met him. From school to his wife, here he was again demanding rights over his only son and all he had left in the world– it made him angry to even think Dumbledore had allowed all this. He walked over to the side, then sat down on the couch beside the fire. Not looking at anyone, tired of everything, he said quietly,

'Go then, get it over with and leave. Harry's fine and safe, you'll see... '

Snape didn't answer, looking at his arch-enemy rather blankly. Maybe it was the fact James was showing weakness in front of him for the first time, maybe it was just that even he, Severus Snape, was tired of their games for a moment, but he lowered his wand carefully and soon the rest followed. He was looking at James with an odd expression, one which no one could quite understand...

_"Severus, I am truly sorry for–"_

_ "You promised me. You said she would be safe! You said–!"_

_ Severus was sitting at the desk, shaking slightly as he leaned forward and all his previous energy to shout and scream gone. He had been dragged to the headmaster's office immediately after the hospital wing, and all the while he couldn't contain the pain in his body, the heart-wrenching sadness of losing his only meaning in life. Everything in the world was unbearable to look at. His very breath was staggered, his soul unable to come to terms that he had not been able to save her in her greatest moment of need. He couldn't believe... that so many people he had trusted betrayed him in one single night. His Lord had said he wouldn't kill her! Dumbledore had said she would be safe and well-hidden! And he couldn't believe...ever since he had first found out...he couldn't take the fact that Lily had died... meanwhile... that worthless scum had actually managed to live! What sort of cruel game was the world playing! To taunt him?!_

_ "You cannot be so selfish Severus. James did not ask to survive. It was–"_

_ "Oh yes, stand up for Potter like you always do. What was it all for? Why did I became your spy? Why did I risk my life so he and his son could live?"_

_ "It is a very cruel irony of the world, Severus... that the very two beings you did not care enough to save... are now the only ones who managed..."_

_ "I'll kill him, he cheated Lily and–"_

_ "Severus, I will not allow you to speak like–"_

_ "I'm no longer under your order's, 'headmaster'..." His black hair covering his face, Snape looked up cruelly, spoke so sarcastically yet it was evident by his eyes he felt only sadness, "Why should I listen–"_

_ "Lily's son could be in danger, Severus." Dumbledore went on gravely, "Do you not wish to help her last remaining–"_

_ "How?" Snape spat, "He has his lovely father to look after him now...it would have been better for them all to–"_

_ "Severus, Lily would have wanted her only child to live. She died for that fact, do you truly wish to go against...?"_

_ At the remark, Snape remained quiet for a long time. He didn't understand what Dumbledore was implying. Harry Potter, Lily's son, was in danger? From what? He'd seen Potter alive and well with his own eyes, this very night no less... and no matter how much pain the fact caused him to see James still breathing... he knew the Potter brat would be well looked after. Dumbledore seemed to guess at his looks, and spoke over gently, _

_ "Do you not find the fact that James survived odd, Severus?" He got up and walked around his desk anxiously, "Did you ever stop to consider... the odds of it?"_

_ "Of course Potter survived," He snorted, " He's cheated his way through life this far, surely he begged–" _

_ "Severus, you know as well as I do that man never leaves mistakes behind. Harry is one thing, but I do fear James is... hiding something of great danger. Something is disturbing him inside...yet I do not know what."_

_ "Hiding? Disturbance?"_

_ "Yes...that is why I ask you, Severus...protect Lily's son. I do not know what is to come in the future...but I do have my worst fears..."_

_ "Which are?" Snape questioned darkly, unsure of what the Headmaster was thinking._

_ "I am afraid...nothing is certain yet. Lord Voldemort is surely not dead, you have felt it too... Severus. Thus, I ask you...protect young Harry, for Lily. You must watch over James, and make sure... nothing happens."_

"Under the headmasters orders, I shall be staying here Potter, and whether you agree with that or not..." He walked briskly by them all and headed upstairs to check on the sleeping Harry, shortly followed by Sirius and Remus. But James sat still on the couch and did not move, his head hung low and a deep feeling turning him inside. He wasn't quite sure if it was anger... or something much darker, but he couldn't recognize the feeling as his own... and it scared him.


End file.
